


Smut Drabble Collection

by shiranuigenma



Category: Naruto, Naruto Shippuden
Genre: D/s, Edging, F/M, Fingering, Hokage Sakura, M/M, Office Sex, Sexual Content, Subspace, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-02 13:52:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19200175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiranuigenma/pseuds/shiranuigenma
Summary: I like smut and drabbles are fun! Each chapter will be a different drabble for a different pairing, all smutty.Feel free to request a pairing in the comments or over on my tumblr (alsoshiranuigenma)!





	1. the show (kakashi/sakura)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what this is. I just had a specific image in my head of Sakura riding Kakashi's thigh and ran with it lol.

****Kakashi is fairly certain that Sakura is going to be the death of him.

It's a thought he has often - even more so since they began their relationship - but he's still not sure exactly how that might play out. In this moment, though, he's leaning toward cardiac arrest as she rolls her hips, the feeling of her damp sex against the bare skin of his thigh almost as heady a sensation as her soft moans and purrs in his ear.

He wonders if she's aware that the power to completely unmake him lays squarely in her hands.

At this point, if she tells him to cum he probably will.

(He wonders if she wants to test that as much as he does.)

She moans again, louder this time, as her hands slide up her chest to knead her breasts, rolling her nipples between her fingertips. He wants to do that, wants to touch her and taste her and give her everything she's seeking for herself, but she doesn't seem to need him right now - this is her show, and he is nothing more than a silent observer.

And what a show it is. She looks downright sinful riding his thigh, crimson painted lips parted and head tipped back, pink hair a messy tumble down her back. He has to bite his lip to stifle a groan, clenching his fists in a desperate bid to keep his hands to himself.

He's failing. He always fails. He's pretty sure it's impossible for him to look at her and _not_  want to touch her.

(It is. In every moment of every day, Kakashi wants to have his hands on her in _some_  way, whether it be her fingers caught between his or the full length of her body pressed against him. It's a distraction. It's a _problem_.

It's hard to run a village when all he can think about is memorizing every inch of her body with his fingers and tongue.)

Kakashi decides that tangling his fingers in her hair and breathing soft praises along the delicate curve of her neck is a good compromise and does just that - Sakura offers no protest, tipping her head to the side now to allow him better access.

Her neck is beautiful. _She_  is beautiful, and when her breath catches in her throat and she cums, the sight of it leaves him absolutely winded.

Kakashi has watched her come undone many times, but never like this, and as she sits astride his thigh, breathing heavily and staring into his eyes like she can see into his soul, her own eyes glassy and skin flush with her orgasm, he decides that this is his favorite.

Or so he says, until she moves to wrap those red lips around his cock.

That is definitely coming very close to the top of the list.


	2. floating (kakashi/tenzo)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Subspace_ requested by **cassieeeeanne** on Tumblr!
> 
> So I honestly had no idea what subspace was so I had to do a little research on it (and came away very intrigued and very enlightened). One definition I found that really resonated with me was: "Subspace is a state of mind that enables the submissive to feel a deep emotional resonance with their dom" and yall know I love writing deep emotional resonance lol
> 
> I hope I did this justice, and I hope you enjoy!

Kakashi _aches._  He's frustrated and he _aches_  and Tenzo, who has been working him toward orgasm for what feels like an eternity now and backing off before he can come, doesn't seem to notice or care, mouth on his cock and fingers in his ass working him back up again.

He's desperate. Overstimulated and desperate and he wants to come so badly that he's begging for it, a senseless babble of _please please please, Tenzo, please_  over and over until Tenzo suddenly pulls away again, dragging his mouth off of Kakashi’s cock and instead focusing on sucking a mark on the inside of his thigh. He's almost sobbing now, straining against the ropes that bind his limbs to the bedposts and bucking his hips, seeking _touch_  or _friction_  or _anything_  that might bring him even just a little bit of relief.

_Please please please-_ the words catch in his throat and his voice cracks, breaks, but Tenzo's only response is to press Kakashi's writhing hips down into the bed with one strong arm.

"I didn't say you could move," Tenzo says, voice a low growl against his thigh, and Kakashi could cry. He wants to come. _Needs_  to come, because if he doesn't he's pretty sure he might actually die.

Rationally, he knows he won't, but he lost his ability for rational thought about ten minutes into this, when he realized that Tenzo was serious about not letting him come.

But then he looks up, sees how wrecked Kakashi is, and his demeanor changes in an instant. Gone is his hard, confident authority and in its place is worry as he breaks character.

"If it's too much I can stop," Tenzo says, and it's tempting.

It's so, _so_  tempting. But he had asked for this, had trusted Tenzo enough to give him total control of his pleasure, had given him the power to reduce him to this writhing, begging mess, and with each denial he falls further into the dizzy haze, so close to where he wants Tenzo to take him.

"Green," he croaks, making his decision. He can take a little more. Just a little more.

Tenzo gives. His mouth is driving Kakashi to ruin, alternating between taking his cock to the back of his throat and tonguing at his hole, the only constant the steady pressure of his hand, holding him to the bed.

And slowly, the tension begins to seep from Kakashi's muscles until he's left soft and pliable beneath Tenzo's attentions, the world around him fading to white noise before disappearing entirely.

And then all he feels is Tenzo.

Sweet, beautiful Tenzo, the only one who has ever been able to make Kakashi give up even a fraction of his careful control, the only one who has ever been able to take him to where he is now - floating endlessly, lost in Tenzo and every sensation currently singing across his synapses.

He feels weightless, light-headed and deliciously dizzy, a tingling sensation that makes him feel warm all over spreading through every inch of him. He's a passenger in his own body, present but not, and it's... freeing.

Like this it's not just his body Tenzo has at his mercy, but his mind, too.

It’s incredible.

He'd be terrified if he had the presence of mind for it.

_Tenzo. Tenzo. Tenzo._  Every last piece of Kakashi is his. Now. Tomorrow. Forever.

It feels like it's been days when he finally comes out of it, unbound, his chest slick with sweat and come and feeling utterly spent, and he's surprised to find his cheeks are wet.

Sex has never made him cry before - but then again, he's never experienced it like _this_ , and the beauty of it, the feelings of _trust_  and _connection_  still pulsing through him as Tenzo breathes soft, affectionate words against his skin, is overwhelming.

He wonders if this is how Tenzo feels, if it's as incredible for him as it was for Kakashi, and he wants to ask but he can't find the words.

He settles on _thank you_ that doesn't quite feel adequate _,_ sounding just as wrecked as he feels, and a kiss when Tenzo leans in to give him one.

"Thank _you_ for trusting me to take care of you," Tenzo responds softly, nuzzling his nose into Kakashi's neck, one hand smoothing his sweat-damp hair.

A relaxed, comfortable silence falls over them, and he knows they should clean up, but he couldn't move even if he wanted to and he's more than content to drift off to sleep in Tenzo's arms.


	3. buried (yamato/sakura)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by **OviQi**!
> 
> This uh... This got away from me. Very fast. Drabbles are supposed to be around 100 words and this one is almost 1000. Oops? (Not oops I actually really, really love how this came out. Thank you so so much for the request!)

Clever fingers dance along the broad sweep of Yamato's shoulders and up the sides of his neck, slipping beneath the band of his happuri and sliding it over his head. The battle-worn metal clatters to the floor across the room, and he sighs as Sakura's fingers tangle in his hair.

"We don't have much time," he says, but the woman in his lap just smirks mischievously, leaning in to nip at his earlobe, breath warm on his ear.

"I can be quick," she murmurs, and he shivers at the low purr of her voice, her fingers twisting in his hair. Her lips trail soft, open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, shifting her weight back just enough to get her hands between them and beneath the hem of his shirt. Despite his reservations, he raises his arms to allow her to remove it, tossing it to join his happuri.

"Sakura." His tone is one of warning, which she chooses to ignore as she traces the line of his collarbone with her tongue. He can't suppress his groan as her fingers tweak his nipples, and he feels her smile against his skin. She's won and she knows it.

Not that he really needed that much convincing, if he's honest. It's been over a month without her and he's _desperate_ for her.

Sakura lets out a soft, surprised squeak as Yamato suddenly pulls her flush to him, hands seated firmly beneath her ass as he gets to his feet and carries her across the room to her desk. He sweeps his arm out to clear it before he sets her on it, scattering papers and pens and even her coffee mug across the floor, silencing her half-hearted protest with a kiss.

He's hard. Painfully so, his erection straining against his pants, but for now he ignores it as he pushes her skirt up around her waist and slips his hand into her panties.

Sakura is so wet for him already, and she moans against his mouth as he slips one finger inside of her, crooking it in search of the spot he knows makes her scream.

Maybe not the best idea in a hospital, but he's sure it'll be fine. It's hardly the worst thing he's made her do in this office.

Yamato swallows her cry as he finds his mark, adding a second finger and grinding his palm against her clit. She bucks into the touch, fingernails biting into his ribs, and he can feel her body beginning to tense under his ministrations.

No. She doesn't get to come until he's buried inside of her.

She gasps at the withdrawal of his hand, the sound sending another hot pulse of blood straight to his cock. He takes only the time needed to unbutton and unzip his pants, tugging them and his boxers down just enough to free his cock, and then he pulls her toward him by the hips and sinks into her.

 _Gods_ , does she feel good, tight and wet and warm. The muscles of her slick walls clench around him as he fucks her, her nails rake painfully down his back, and he wants to take back everything he said about them not having time.

"What do you say," Yamato breathes, nipping at her lower lip, and she cries out again as his hips hitch into hers, "we skip the ceremony and go home, and we can do this all..." He punctuates the word with another thrust, dragging one hand down the length of her thigh. "Night..." His other hand moves to her neck, fingertips pressing against her pulse, feeling it quicken. "Long."

Sakura's only answer is a raw cry as she unravels.

Yamato presses kiss after kiss to her soft pink hair, rutting shallowly as he carries her through it. He's close, too, teetering dangerously on the edge, but he takes care of her first - he'll always take care of her first, more than once if he can, but he doesn't much like the idea of walking home with an erection. Even so, he waits until she sags bonelessly against him, breathing heavily against his shoulder and her walls still fluttering around him, to chase his own release, cradling her close.

He blindly seeks her mouth as he comes, too, buried in her heat and breathing ragged praises against her mouth _you feel so good I love you I love you_  until he runs out of breath and can do nothing more than inhale her.

No one has ever overwhelmed Yamato as much as Sakura does, has ever torn him down and built him back up in that way only she can. He loves her. He _loves her_.

She's beautiful, and she's his.

 _He loves her_.

As much as he wants to take her home and revel in that realization, those three words he's never told her before today, he knows it's bad form for the Hokage to miss her own inauguration.

Later, he thinks, helping her clean up and straightening her clothes, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead.

And he has so many ideas for later.

 


End file.
